Rabies
by Snodin
Summary: While Stan searches for a cure for Kyle's latest "illness," he also has a hard time getting Cartman off his case. A re-vamped, updated version of an old fic of mine, now COMPLETE!
1. The Symptoms

DISCLAIMERS: All characters and events in this story- even those based on real people- are completely fictional. In fact, none of these characters belong to the writer of the story and are interpreted… poorly. The following text is not only crude in nature but also completely unoriginal (it's a "fanfic", after all) and should not be read by anyone. For those of you who have completely ignored this warning, enjoy.

***

**RABIES**

A "South Park" story

By Snodin

***

ACT I: The Symptoms

This was his fourth sick day in a row.

Not since his kidney failure has Kyle been so absent from school, and now even Mr. Garrison was showing concern. "Okay children," was his usual introduction to a long-winded speech; only this time he added, "before class is over I want to remind you that your reports on the fall of the Roman Empire are due Monday. Stan, since Kyle's your partner in this project and he's home sick again, I'll let you two give your report next Friday."

Sitting behind Stan was Cartman, the fat kid with the big mouth. He made sure that Stan heard him whisper, "Psst. Figures he goes easy on the gay couple."

"Shuddup, fatass," the blue-capped kid muttered back quickly.

"Stanley?" the balding, bespectacled teacher rose his voice in frustration. "Is there something you'd like to say?"

Stan replied calmly, "Oh, uh… I was just wondering if we were allowed to bring visual aid, Mr. Garrison."

"What for?"

"Well, I had an idea of bringing a board game like Risk or something, to help Cartman tell the difference between the Romans and the rebel peasants."

"Ay!" barked the chubby one. "I know the diff'rence between Romans and peasants! I ain't stupid."

"Oh yeah?" was Stan's coy remark. "D'you even remember where the Romans lived, tubby?"

"Sure I do… Ehh… It was… Ro-maaan…owski-mania?"

"Close enough," said Mr. Garrison.

"What!?" Before Stan could protest, the bell rung to signal the end of the day.

"Alright, class dismissed! Thank God," sighed the troubled teacher. As Stan passed him by on the way to the door, Garrison added, "Stanley, you can bring in the board game. Just make sure your partner gets better before your time runs out and you both get an F."

"Yes, Mr. Garrison."

*

"Stan," sung Cartman in a high teasing voice, "make sure your _partner_ is well enough fer tha presentation next Friday."

The three boys- Stan, Cartman and Kenny in that order- were hopping along their way toward the bus stop outside school while the fat kid resumed his typical banter.

Stan's fine-lined eyebrows furrowed over his large oval eyes. "For the last time, fatass, I'm not in love with Kyle! He's just my best friend, that's all."

"Yeh, I bet dat's wat Heath Ledger said to Jake Gyllenhal, right before he b$#d him in th'ass."

They came to their stop, just in time for Stan to turn around and shove his pointer finger at Cartman. "Goddamnit, Cartman! I've just about had it with you and your big, fat, stupid mouth! You say we're gay one more time, and I'm gonna shove my foot up your ass."

"I bun fink iff gonna fit in 'ere," muffled the tightly-hooded Kenny. "Hiff aff iff poo big."

"Shuddup, Kenny!" barked Cartman defensively. "Who asked you??"

Finally, the bus pulled up.

*

The boys were quiet for the whole trip to the bus stop near their homes, but no sooner did it drop them off then Cartman was at it again. "I bet Kyle's fakin' it anyway. He's jess tryin' to get out of schoo'."

"That's the difference between you and him," argued the ring leader of the group; "he actually _wants_ to pass the grade."

"I fought buh kibnee he bot frum Partman mabe him all bedder."

"Yeah, his kidney's just fine now Kenny," frowned Stan, "but I think it's different this time. I saw him yesterday, and you know what? His eyes were pale."

"Dude his eyes are always pale," argued Cartman.

"No, I mean like they're whiter than usual. It's like you can't even see the brown in 'em anymore. You guys gotta see it for yourselves."

"No way, man. I ain't getting' germs from your Jew boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend, fatass!"

"…Well, he _is_ a Jew." There was no arguing with him there.

*

In the quaint little green house on the block lived the Broflovski family. In his room, Kyle was sitting up in bed, his blanket covering the orange coat he wore constantly. But there was something definitely wrong with his appearance; his eyes were as glazed as Stan described, but there was more. His skin was now fading from fleshy peach to pale white, with just a hint of sickly green. Around his mouth and on his chin were green wart-like growths, and his mouth gaped open, letting loose some drool. To sum it up quite promptly, he resembled Selma Blair from _"The Exorcist."_

By his bedside were his overbearing mother, his tiny adopted brother Ike, and the lead doctor of the town, Dr. Doctor. …No seriously, that really is his name.

As the doctor checked the sickly boy's pulse with a stethoscope, Mrs. Broflovski looked on in despair. "I don't understand it, Doctor. He was perfectly fine a few days ago, and now he's barely even eating."

"When was his last meal?"

"This morning I gave him cereal, and he snubbed it without even uttering a word."

At that point, the boy seemed to be trying to utter words, but they only came out as, _**"Uugh-yee-augh-uuuuuh…."**_

"Well keep trying," advised the doctor as he moved away from Kyle. "I'm getting a fast heart rate, and his temperature is rising. I'm going to need a sample of his blood to analyze back at the hospital."

"Oh, just be careful! My wubbie's blood shugah may be too low."

The doctor pulled out his small needle when Mr. Broflovski entered the room with Stan, Kenny and even Cartman. "Honey, Kyle's friends are here to see him."

"This isn't a good time boys," the Mrs. Gently warned. "The doctor's taking Kyle's blood now."

"Ho-ho, sweet!" cheered Cartman, delighting in the idea of his long-time rival feeling pain.

As the needle entered his arm, Kyle's eyes fluttered for the first time in days. **"Imputent… mortals…"** he seemed to breathe, in a voice that seemed to be mixed with his regular childish one and that of a baritone's.

The doctor seemed to hear him and replied, "Now, now. It's just a little stick, that's all."

"**I will show you pain…"**

"Dude," Stan spoke up, obviously creeped out by Kyle's tone of voice. "Something's totally wrong here. You guys notice it too?"

"Yeah," answered the smartass Cartman; "He didn't blow ya a kiss er nothin'."

Stan growled at his remark, but then his attention was stolen by a sudden growl coming from Kyle. Only it didn't sound human at all, it was more like a hungry bear's grumble. It even scared the doctor into backing away, along with Mrs. Broflovski.

With a great inhuman bellow, Kyle's mouth opened wide and unleashed a torrent of vomit, which splattered all over the place. Everyone ducked and watched in horror as the walls were painted greenish-brown in bile.

"Holy sh#t!!" exclaimed Cartman. Kenny added something too, but it was hard to tell what he said- it couldn't have been courteous, that was for sure.

Kyle's head whipped around like a garden hose, as if he was purposely aiming at everything in the room. Then, just as quickly as it began, the horror ended and the boy passed out in exhaustion. Everyone rose back to their feet, all partially covered in brown goo.

"Jesus Christ," cussed the disgusted doctor, waving vomit off of his arms. "This is much worse than I thought. It could be salmonella, or E. coli.

"E. coli can do _that_!?" asked Kyle's doubtful father.

"Hush, Gerald! The doctor knows what he's doing," snapped his wife. "Ike, clean this mess up."

"Aww, poopie sticks!" replied the annoyed half-vomited on toddler.

Sheila Broflovski then turned to the visiting children. "I'm sorry kids, but you'll have to come back later to see Kyle."

"Later!? Cripes!" complained Cartman. "After this, I won't be seeing this place for another decade!"

"Shuddup, Cartman," snapped Stan. He then promised Kyle's mom, "We'll be back."

"I know he'll appreciate it," she nodded.

As she said this, the weakened Kyle mumbled softly, **"Mmeughraphilleh…"**

*

Stan and his tagalong friends were walking down the street that evening, all cleaned up as if nothing had happened to them. But it was needless to say that their visit to Kyle's room was a memory that wouldn't immediately go away.

"Man! Did you see all that crap he chucked up?" asked a seemingly concerned Cartman. "I hope it's not contagious."

"I dunno what it is," replied a truly concerned Stan, "but I have the weirdest feeling I've seen it before."

"Hell yeah, it's like ev'ry time you try to kiss Wendy… Ay, that explains it!"

"Explains what?" asked Stan bodly as he stopped in his tracks to face Cartman.

Cartman replied matter-of-factly, "Stan pukes when he's with Wendy, Kyle pukes when he's with Stan. …You see? He's totally gay for you!"

Stan's eyes bulged in outrage. "What!?"

"Holy Jesus, this explains everything!" smiled Cartman, as if he had struck gold. "You gahs always make up after a fight, you hold hands, and you never _ever_ call him a Jew."

"Well it's not like a curse word, like you think it is. And when the hell did we ever hold hands!?"

"Like that one time, when we were hunting with Uncle Jimbo, and you saw the deer and you didn't kill it, and you were like, 'Ay, Uncle Jimbo! I can't shoot a deer 'cause I'm a pussy.' And Kyle was all like, 'Aw, poor Stan. Here, let me hold your hand and walk you home.' And then you guys totally made out right in front of Jerry Springer."

Stan stood motionless with his mouth gaped open for a moment. "………What the f#*k kind of world do you come from, Cartman?"

"You gahs, I just thought of it! Why don't we, like, put your names together like dey do with celebrities? We'll call you gahs… Kan. No, Marshki… No, no wait! I got it! I got it! We'll call it… _Style_!"

"You're totally losing it, fatass."

"No, seriously! You gahs are like Penn an' Teller, only Teller talks and he's a Jew and he totally bangs you."

Stan had kept his cool for as long as he could, but this was the last straw. He clutched his red mittened hands into fists and grit his teeth before stomping his foot in frustration. "That does it, Cartman! This whole gay thing has gone far enough, now you either drop it or I'm dropping you!"

"You cam't drop him, he'ff too fab po eefin lifp up," muffled Kenny.

"What do you mean drop me?" asked Cartman with a raised eyebrow.

"I mean I'm dropping you from our group," warned Stan fiercely. "You hear me, fatass? I will totally not speak to you anymore. I won't invite you over to my house, or go to your birthday parties, or even save your life for the umpteenth time. I'll be through with you! Got it!?"

"Ha. You can't get rid o' me that easily, Style."

"Oh no? Watch me." With that, Stan turned back and started off for home alone.

Cartman did his best to irk him even more with a familiar song: _"My life with suck without you, Styyyyyle!"_

"Not listening! Lalalalalalalalalala!" resisted Stan, sticking his fingers in his invisible ears as he stormed off.

Cartman then started to chuckle, when he noticed that his more loyal friend, Kenny, wasn't laughing with him. "…What?"

"You reely are an affhole, Parpman."

"Aw, come on Kenny. I was just joking."

But Kenny wasn't having it; he quickly headed in Stan's direction, calling out, "Wafer me, Fan!"

"Ay. Come back here, Kenny! …Kenny!!" But it was no use, Cartman soon found himself alone, abandoned. "…Fine!" he huffed angrily. "Screw you gahs! I'll find some new friends. And you know what? They won't be gay homos like you gahs!" The chubby one then started to storm off in the opposite direction as his former friends, only his pace was much slower… and sadder… than theirs.

*

As evening faded into night, a quiet stillness filled the town of South Park. The full moon hung overhead like a guardian, but not all was as peaceful as it seemed.

Stan and Kenny decided to honor their promise to revisit Kyle, and they waited until they knew for certain that it was safe to do so. That time came around 9pm. Together they walked over to Kyle's green house and gently knocked on it, only to be welcomed by little Ike. He let them in and walked- actually he bounced- up to his big brother's room. They can tell by the way his brow furrowed over his beady black eyes that something was amiss. He may have been a three-year-old, but even Ike suspected something about his brother's condition.

As he carefully creaked open Kyle's bedroom door he muttered, "Piece of pancakes," which in his own way meant something along the lines of "Be careful in there." Then he bounced away, possibly too afraid to venture any further.

Stan and Kenny braced themselves, when suddenly their quiet stealth was shattered by a sudden "Sup, you guys."

"WAH!" they both yelped as they jumped in fear. That's when they realized that they were being followed all along. "Cartman! What the hell're you doing here?" exclaimed a startled Stan.

"Checkin' up on da sick puppy," he innocently replied. "I see you guys had da same idea as we did."

Still stunned by Cartman's sudden appearance, Stan uttered, "We? Who's we?"

Proudly, the chubby boy in red declared, "Meet mah new bestest friend in the whole world… Fred." He stretched out his arm as if welcoming his new friend, but strangely enough, no one was behind him at all.

"…Well? Where is he?" asked Stan, clearly annoyed.

"He's right here. Say hello, Fred." Cartman allowed there to be a moment of dead silence, staring happily at… nothing.

Stan felt dizzy as he pondered Cartman's newest ploy. "…Eh-wha-… what?"

"You gahs kicked me outta your gay-homo group, so I made mah own. Fred's ten times da friend you'll ever be… What's that, Fred? …Oh-ho-ho, yeah. Yeah. You're right, Kenny does look like a retarded penguin."

Stan's eyes closed halfway, looking sleepy but ultimately irritated. "…Dude. Don't tell me you made up an imaginary friend just to hang out with us."

"I'm _not_ hanging out with you gahs. I only came here with Fred!" The more Cartman talked about it, the more he seemed to believe in Fred's existence. "Now let's go make Kyle chuck up his guts an' tape it so we can play it on You Tube."

Stan looked to Kenny for answers; the orange one shrugged, "We mi'aff well pway awong."

"Well," replied Stan in defeat, "as long as he stays in his own corner, I guess it's alright."

"Sweet! Come on, Fred. Follow me." Cartman then marched into the bedroom first, with Stan and Kenny reluctantly following behind.

The room was as clean and orderly, much to the boys' relief. And the fact that Kyle seemed to be sound asleep made them feel all the more at ease. "Wow, Ike did a really good job with the place," Stan said admiringly.

"Yeah, sweet. It really does fit your Style."

"Get in the corner, fatso!" Stan ordered, pointing the way. "Weak," muttered Cartman as Stan approached his sleeping buddy. "…Kyle? …Kyle it's me, Stan. And Kenny's here too. And Cartman, sort of. Listen, I've been doing some research on all your symptoms on Wikipedia, and I'm thinking maybe… you've got bird flu."

"Mmm…uggh…" came a small, weak voice from the bed. For once, Kyle sounded like his old self.

"Dude, you gotta get to the hospital. This looks serious."

"Uuugh," Kyle moaned again. As he did so, he managed to sit up in his bed, facing the side of the room opposite Stan and Kenny. At least from his back, he looked normal.

"Alright, enough o' this crap," stated an annoyed Cartman. He approached Kyle from behind his back and said, "Alright, Jew-boy, game's over. Everybody knows you're faking it, so enough's enough."

"Cartman," growled Stan.

The fat boy ignored him, still addressing Kyle. "Question: How did you git all that stuff on your face? Is it chewed up broccoli or something? I bet you used a garden hose for that vomit effect."

"Cartman, knock it off!" warned Stan. But again, he was ignored.

"Come on, lemmie in on your secret so I can skip scoo' on Monday… Ay! Kyle! I'm talking to you, asshole! Lookit me, I'm over here! Hello?? Can you here me now, Jew-boy? Face me, goddammit!!"

Kyle responded, but certainly not in the way the boys expected him to. At first, Kyle's head shifted so that he can see them from the corner of his left eye. But just when it seemed that his head couldn't rotate any further, it did! Slowly, and with an eerie creaking sound, his head rotated completely around so that he was facing the shocked boys head on, while the rest of his body remained facing the other way. As before, his face was still sickly green, his eyes still glazed and colorless. But now, there was an added feature: sharp fangs where flat teeth once stood. He looked absolutely unworldly!

"What. Da. F#*k?" Cartman uttered in absolute horror.

Kyle's body then began to levitate, while spinning around until it matched his head's viewpoint. With arms stretched out to the sky, the once-human creature spoke out in the child/baritone voice, **"You will bow before me, mortals, or face my wrath!"**

The boys huddled together- Kenny closed up his hood as tightly as he could in hopes that Kyle wouldn't see him. Then, as if hovering in the air and looking like a monster wasn't enough, Kyle then waved his left arm and clutched his hand to summon a new kind of power: telekinesis. His dresser drawer's flew open and all of the boy's clothes started to whirl around the room as though a tornado had been unleashed. The drawers themselves also shot out with a force, slamming themselves into the walls and just barely missing the petrified children on the ground. But it didn't seem to be enough; Kyle's arms waved like a wizard's causing more and more items in the room to take flight and eventually collide with the ceiling or walls, or go careening out the window.

"Hit the deck!" yelled Stan as he and Kenny rolled out of the way of Kyle's CD collection.

"Lookout, Fred!" yipped Cartman, as he shoved the empty space next to him out of the way of an on-coming desk.

Stan eventually took cover next to the bed, staring up at the creature hovering in the air. "Kyle! Stop it! Your parents'll have a fit if you don't clean all this up!"

"**I will teach you to fear me, little human,"** said the creature as his pale eyes narrowed at Stan. He then pointed to the last inanimate object in the room to take flight, which was his prized computer on the table near his bed.

"_No, dude! Not the computer!!"_ came a voice on the wind, a voice so familiar to Stan that it stopped his heart for a second. "…Huh?" he gasped.

On cue, the large hardware machine came lunging at Stan. He dodged it just in the nick of time and watched as it slammed itself into the bedroom door.

"…_Eh well, I was getting a Dell anyway,"_ came that eerily familiar voice again.

Stan eyed the ceiling, trying to pinpoint the strange sound. "…Kyle? Is that you?"

"Stan! Lookout!!" screamed Cartman, who noticed something that Stan didn't at that moment. Stan was too late to see, but the creature donning Kyle's clothes and skin threw his arms out towards Stan. Pushed by an invisible force, Stan himself was thrown halfway across the room, and his back landed hard onto the wall. He slid to the floor, out cold.

"Leff git ou'a here!" muffled a terrified Kenny, as both he and Cartman crawled on their hands and knees toward the doorway.

The hovering beast was still on a rampage as he declared loudly, **"No one escapes me! NO one! NO… oh… crap… not now." **

Suddenly, his self-made whirlwind began to die down, and he himself was losing energy. Cartman and Kenny watched silently as their assailant gracefully descended from the air and back into bed. He didn't even have to move the blanket over himself; it covered him all by itself. He was soon fast asleep, and as his rampage died down, so too did his telekinesis. All of the remaining objects in the air came raining down onto the floor, inanimate once again. Peace and quiet returned to the room at last.

"…Dude," whispered Cartman to Kenny, "I knew Jews made a mess o' things, but this is ridiculous."

Time seemed to pass slowly as Stan nearly slept through the experience. The shock that he felt while hitting the wall made his head light and dizzy, making it hard for him to regain consciousness.

"…_Stan? …Stan, get up!"_

He could swear that was Kyle's voice calling for him, but it must have been a dream. There was no way that he could have recovered from bird flu that quickly.

"_Get up, dude!"_

"Mmm… wha…?" Stan's oval eyes pried open as he finally awoke. He was still in the room, which was now demolished once again. At first his vision was blurry; but it looked like Kyle's shape was standing in front of him, surrounded in a pale blue halo of light. "K-Kyle?... Aw, dude. I just had the weirdest dream. I went to your house, and… everything went crazy."

"_It's not a dream, dude. It's real. Look at me."_

Stan rubbed his eyes to clear his vision. In an instant, the room was clear. Cartman and Kenny were still present, and Kyle's body was still lying unconscious in bed. But as Stan looked around, he noticed that the blue light hadn't faded away; it too was clearly visible right in front of him. And it was still shaped like Kyle! "…Dude!? What the… What's going on!?"

"_I don't have much time, dude. I have to _show_ you what's been going on."_

Kyle's spirit then touched Stan's forehead, and all at once, his eyes glazed and went out of focus again. Everything went black, and he felt himself being spirited into another time and place in a heartbeat.

"_Remember the night of Kenny's birthday party a week ago?"_

The scene had drastically changed into last weekend, at Kenny's broken down house in the poorest corner of town. Inside the living room, there were construction paper cut-out banners saying "Happy Birthday, Kenny" on the wall, and tin beer cans were remodeled into party favors on the floor as there was no table. There was, however, a couch- an old tattered one that was well enough for at least two people to sit on.

There they were, all four boys in normal fashion, gathered in a circle to watch Kenny open up a blue-wrapped present. He noticed that it was nothing more than a brown wooden box, and furrowed his eyebrows in disappointment. "Wat de fupp iff viss?"

"Go ahead, Kenny. Open it up!" cheered Cartman, as it was his present to Kenny.

The orange boy lifted the lid of the box to reveal what looked like a game board, only it had numbers and letters written all over it in an unorthodox fashion. There was only one other piece to go with it: a small triangular tool with a telescopic lens in its center.

"It's a Weegie board," mispronounced Cartman. "You ask it all kinds o' questions, like if your friends are too Jewy, and it tells ya exactly everything you wanna know. It's coo'!"

"Dude, an Ouija board?" frowned Kyle worriedly. "Aren't those things dangerous?"

"What's so dangerous about a board game?" wondered Stan, puzzled.

Kyle explained, "I've heard stories about those things; they get their powers from the Underworld, and if you ask too many questions, it'll open up a portal and let out an evil spirit and stuff."

"…Kyle, don't be such a pussy!" argued Cartman. "Go 'head Kenny, try it out."

"Opay," shrugged Kenny curiously.

"You guys go ahead, I'm gonna sit over here and watch," said Kyle as he hopped over to the tattered couch.

"Stan, you really gotta git a new boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend, fatass. Shuddup." With that, Stan and the other three grasped one corner of the triangle each. "Go ahead, Kenny. You start."

"Opay… Uh, Miffer Weejie? Will I effer be witch or famouff?"

To their surprise, the triangle began to move as if magically. "Dude, how is it doing that?" wondered Stan aloud. "It's probably just some magnet underneath," informed Cartman. Then to their awe, the triangle landed on the following letters in order: N-O-W-A-Y

"No… way? No way, Kenny! You're gonna be poor as crap forever!" laughed Cartman.

"Aww, fupp you Weejie!"

"Your turn, Stan."

"Okay… Mr. Ouija, is there a magnet underneath your triangle?"

Again, the triangle moved in a pattern: N-O

"No? Then how does this thing move?"

From the safety of the couch, Kyle responded, "It's magic, Stan. Dark magic."

"No comments from da peanut gallery," warned Cartman. "My turn now. Mr. Weegie, when will Stan and Kyle ever admit that they're gay for each other?"

Both Stan and Kyle grumbled as the triangle moved in a much longer formation this time: Y-O-U-S-P-E-A-K-F-O-O-L-I-S-H-N-E-S-S-Y-O-U-N-G-M-O-R-T-A-L-S

Together the trio read out, "You… speak… foolishness… young…mortals."

I-W-I-L-L-S-O-O-N-E-N-T-E-R-Y-O-U-R-W-O-R-L-D-A-N-D-D-E-S-T-R-O-Y-Y-O-U-A-L-L

"I… will… soon… enter… your… world… and… destroy… you… all."

"Ho-ho, this thing kicks ass," smiled an ignorant Cartman. "Kenny, it's your turn again."

But before Kenny even had a chance to ask a question, the needle moved yet again. This time, however, it moved with such a force that the boys had trouble keeping up with it. W-H-I-C-H-O-N-E-O-F-Y-O-U-I-S-T-H-E-P-U-R-E-S-T-O-F-S-O-U-L-S-?

"Which one of you is the purest of souls?" read Stan allowed, now convinced that there was something eerie going on here. "What does that mean?" He didn't mean to directly ask the board a question, but it seemed that Stan had activated its next course of lettering: I-M-U-S-T-F-E-E-D-O-N-A-P-U-R-E-S-O-U-L-G-I-V-E-I-T-T-O-M-E-N-O-W-!

The needle then began to spin in a circle, faster and faster, until it actually fell out of the boys' grips. They watched in amazement as the needle seemed to take a life all of its own, spinning uncontrollably on the board. But then, it spun so quickly that it jumped off of the board and onto the living room floor!

"Augh! It's alive!" yipped Stan in horror.

Cartman quickly rushed over to the dining room table, ripped off one of its few remaining legs, and held it up like a bat. "Kill it!" He then started to chase the possessed needle around the room as if it were a loose rodent. Together, he and the needle knocked over party favors, presents, and at once point the fat boy even whacked his bat into the living room television, shattering its screen. Kenny screamed in fury at this.

Just when things were at their most chaotic, Kyle suddenly flung himself over the needle with its board game box, trapping it. "Now, Cartman! Hurry!" The fat boy then proceeded to beat the box to a pulp, until it was nothing but splinters.

"Whew," Stan sighed as he wiped his brow in the aftermath. "Well, that sucked."

"I told you guys those things were dangerous," forewarned Kyle. "Maybe next time you should bring over Chutes and Ladders, Cartman."

"Yoo buys bwoke all my fuff!" moaned Kenny.

"I'm sorry Kenny," frowned Kyle mournfully. "I'll get you better presents, and a new TV. That's a promise. I'm just glad that this whole Ouija thing is done and over with."

He was, of course, wrong; the Ouija thing, as he put it, was just getting started. Something as invisible as a shadow crept up behind the boy while his back was turned, and eventually caught up with him that night. The next thing Kyle would see was blackness, which was what Stan had now seen before warping back to the present. It all happened so fast that he almost lost consciousness again.

"_And then this asshole demon came out of nowhere and kicked me out of my own body,"_ explained Kyle's faintly blue spirit, _"and I've been stuck in between worlds ever since."_

Even Cartman seemed distraught by this story. "Kicked outta your own body? Weak dude; not even _it_ likes you."

"_That's not me, fatass!"_ replied an angry spirit as he pointed to the creature in his bed. _"His name is Memphis- something, and he wants to bring the Apocalypse on all of us, starting with our town!"_

"You mean… this whole thing is our fault?" frowned Stan sympathetically.

"_It gets worse, dude. Every time he uses his powers, I get weaker and smaller. If he keeps this up, I might fade away forever."_

Stan's mouth then gaped in horror. "…I'm not gonna let that happen. Mark my words, dude, I'll get that bastard out of your body as soon as possible."

"**That's not going to happen,"** cooed a sinister voice nearby. The boys, including Kyle's spirit, turned around to see that the demon within Kyle's body was now wide awake, and smiling. **"You will all soon burn in unholy fire, and I shall claim this world as my own! Mwahahahaha."**

"_You sonuvabitch! Gimmie back my body!"_

"**That's it, boy; you're grounded."** The creature then clutched his hand toward Kyle, as if he was grabbing him from afar. Kyle's spirit yelped as he felt himself being dragged under the bed and through the floor by his own shadow. **"…You three our next."**

"Run, Fred! Save yourself!" screamed Cartman as he was the first to run out of the room in terror. Kenny soon followed after him, dragging Stan by his sleeve forcefully. The beast waited until he was alone again before resuming his beauty sleep.

*

Stan was heading home again, only this time he hung his head in shame, while the other two boys followed closely behind. "I can't believe it. We actually summoned a demon, and now the whole world's gonna go to hell."

"Fred says he's sorry for you, Stan."

"…Gee, thanks Cartman."

"No, _Fred's_ sorry for you. Not me!"

"Watt're we bonna boo about Pyle?"

Stan replied to his muffled friend, "I gotta go back online and look up Demons. There's gotta be a way to get rid of that thing before it kills Kyle."

"Fred says-"

"I'm not talking to you OR Fred, Cartman! Why don't the two of you just leave us the hell alone!?"

"Ay, I'm not following you or anything. I'm following mah new best friend."

"…Oh yeah?" Stan had finally caught onto Cartman's game, and pointed across the street. "Look there, Cartman. I think Fred's heading back to your house already."

"What??" Cartman, fooled by the trick, glanced across the street and called out, "Ay! Come back here, Fred! We still gotta stop off fer Cheesy Poofs!"

Stan and Kenny watched as their bewildering third wheel hopped away. "…Come on, Kenny. We got some homework to do."

Kenny loyally followed after Stan, but not without complaining, "Aww, fupp. I hape homeworp on weepends."

CONTINUED…


	2. The Prognosis

**RABIES**

A "South Park" story

By Snodin

***

ACT II: The Prognosis

That next morning, Gerald Broflovski had gotten the call he had been waiting anxiously for. It was Doctor Doctor's prognosis for Kyle, but nothing could prepare Gerald for what he was about to hear on the phone.

"Yes, hello? Oh, good morning Doctor! …Yes? …Uh-huh… I see… Well, we're still trying to get him to eat, Doctor… Nope, not a bite… We'll keep trying. Thanks again for your call. …Okay, see you then. Goodbye." Click.

No sooner than he hung up the phone that his nervous wife entered the room. "Well, Gerald? What is it? What did the doctor say?"

Gerald glanced at the floor in bewilderment as he turned to face Sheila. "You're really not going to believe this, honey."

Sheila cupped her chin. "Oh, God! Is it pneumonia? It is, isn't it?"

"…The blood test came back negative, Sheila."

"Oh God, I knew it! I knew- wha?"

"He said there's absolutely nothing out of the ordinary with Kyle's blood sample. He has no trace of sickness whatsoever."

"What-what-WHAT!? But he's up there in bed sick as a dog!"

"I know," frowned Gerald most worriedly. "I can't believe it either… We're just going to have to do our best to make sure he doesn't dehydrate from all that vomiting." He then approached his wife, who was now a heartbeat away from crying her eyes out, and embraced her shoulders.

"This can't be happening," she sobbed mournfully. "Our boy's withering away and there's nothing anyone can do about it."

"There-there, dear. We'll think of something."

"I'm all out of ideas, Gerald. _What_ is happening to our poor little Kyle?" She then continued her sobbing while hugging her husband tightly.

Unbeknownst to them, their adopted toddler Ike was eavesdropping from the staircase leading to the second floor. His eyebrows curled upward in concern, as if he understood- and perhaps even felt- their pain.

*

He didn't have all of the answers just yet, but Stan Marsh was far ahead of everyone else in the mystery behind Kyle's "sickness." He didn't know much about demons, but he was sure that the Internet would help. Kenny was with him in his room that morning, watching as Stan's tiny fingers fiddled at his keyboard.

"Let's see… Wikipedia's usually a good site. I'll start there." On the main English page, Stan typed in "Demon" in the searchbar, then hit the "Go" button. The screen then opened up to a very long scroll of demon know-how, complete with a copy of a black-and-white sketch of Saint Anthony surrounded by ghostly demons. At first glance of the picture, Stan cooed, "Woah, cool."

His first instinct was to click on the shortcut to the topic "Hebrew Bible," and quickly skimmed the small paragraphs underneath the mini-title. "…It says here that there are two kinds of demons- one kind of good, and the other… 'are often responsible in instances of possession.'" He paused in deep thought. "Hmm… Possession." He then went back to the searchbar of the web page and entered "Possession." He then clicked "Go."

"….Naw! There's a whole bunch of crap on Possession. Stupid English language." Stan impatiently scrolled up and down on the second page until finally he found "Metaphysics- Demonic Possession" as a clickable item. "Bingo." Click.

Now he had a page fill of the answers he had been looking for: the history and theology behind demons possessing human bodies. "Check it out, Kenny! It says here that a person can… exercise a demon?" Clearly he was misreading the word "exorcise."

"Epfferfize?? You mean wike awoah-bips?"

"I dunno. It does sound weird that all Kyle would need is a little exercise. Hmm… Let me see if I can find more on Judaism."

"Wot for?"

"Because Kyle's Jewish, which means a priest won't do the trick. I wonder what kind of person can exercise a Jew…"

Stan took his time to read through the main page of "Judaism," until finally he found what he was looking for. "Here it is, Kenny. The Jewish equivalent of a priest is… a rabbi." Let it be known that Stan was once again mispronouncing the key word; here, he thought "rabbi" was pronounced "ray-bee."

"Way-bee?" muffled a confused Kenny.

"Hm," thought Stan aloud. "I wonder if that's what they mean when they talk about rabies."

"I bunno, if founfs mabe up. You fore it'f ray-beeff?"

"It's the only lead we've got so far, Kenny. We might as well go with it and try to look for a ray-bee in town. Come on!" With that, Stan hopped off of his chair and led the way out of the room.

They found Stan's dad, Randy, sitting on the couch in the living room watching television. "Dad?" Stan asked him. "Do you know where there are any rabies in town?"

Randy was slightly distracted by the television, but responded. "Rabies? What do you wanna know about rabies, Stanley?"

"Pyle's been puffeffed by a deemin an-" Kenny started to mumble, but was abruptly cut off by Stan as he said, "I-it's for a school project, Dad. Do you know where we can find rabies?"

"Well," uttered a slightly confused Randy, "I can't remember the last time we had a case of rabies around here, Stanley."

Stan wasn't quite on the same page as his father as he replied, "They come in cases? Really? That's weird…"

"I'd ask around, son. I'll bet there're some strays or wild ones out in the woods somewhere."

Wild and stray Jew-priests that come in cases? This was all sounding far too strange to Stan and Kenny. "…Kay? …Thanks Dad."

"Welcome son," Randy gave a half-smile as the two kids hopped out of the scene. As he found himself alone he wondered aloud, "What're they teaching these kids today?"

*

"Why bib'nt we pell him aboud de deemin?" mumbled Kenny as he followed Stand down the street.

"Because," explained the leader, "if we tell people there's a demon in South Park, there'll be a widespread panic. Remember how crazy people went over global warming? This'll be much worse, dude. We can't let anybody know that the world is coming to an end."

Stan was wise for his age, but not very alert. While he was speaking to Kenny, the two boys passed by a dumpster outside of the local quick mart. What they didn't realize was that a homeless man caked in trash, rags and matted hair made that dumpster his home, and that he had overheard the worst news ever. "…The world is coming to an end?"

*

The hours ticked away, and time was running out for Kyle. His father had served a tray of soup at his bedside before leaving him be. By now, it was clear that Kyle's orange coat was being torn from the sleeves, revealing the cotton from underneath. Also, his iris-less eyes were fading from pale to a faint yellow.

The demon within grabbed the bowl, chugged down the red-hot soup, and promptly spewed it up again while spinning his head around like a garden hose.

Kyle's pale blue spirit seemed to be limited to the shade under his bed, but was well aware of what was happening. _"Why do you keep throwing up our food?"_

"**Because it's fun,"** grinned the creature.

"_You do realize you're killing me, right? How are you gonna destroy the world if you kill me, dumbass demon?"_

"**I have no need for sustenance, unlike you petty mortals. Once I drain you of your life energy, I will move on to others until I have absorbed you all."**

"Uh-oh," came a small voice nearby. This alerted the demon within Kyle's body and he let out an angry hiss.

Kyle's blue spirit recognized the voice immediately and gasped, _"Ike?"_

Sure enough, the baby Canadian-American was peeking his football-shaped head through the bedroom door. One glance from Kyle's colorless eyes sent him scurrying down the hall with a certain "spring" in his bounce.

Enraged, the beastly version of Kyle came galloping out of his room, green ooze drooling from his fangs. He snarled like a wild animal chasing down its prey, but stopped at the top of the stairs. Ike was nowhere in sight, and the beast felt defeated. There would be no other souls on the menu today.

Ike had quickly jumped into his room, slamming the door before the demon caught sight of him. He leaned up against the door in a frantic pant, and laid still there until all was quiet. He was beginning to feel safe, when suddenly a flash of blue light appeared before him.

"_Ike, are you okay?"_

"AH!" shrieked the startled toddler. He hid his beady eyes in fear of the ghost. "Poopie scooter!"

"_No-no-no, Ike. It's me, Kyle!_ _The _real _Kyle."_

Ike opened one eye to confirm the truth, and saw that his brother truly was standing in front of him, except that he was covered in a strange blue haze of faint light. "…Kyle?"

The ghostly figure knelt down to Ike's level. _"Yeah… I can only come out when it's dark." _Apparently, the closed curtains of Ike's window were keeping enough sunlight out to allow him to appear.

Realizing who the ghost was, Ike jumped for joy. "Babababa!" He then ran toward Kyle's spirit in an effort to give him a hug… only to go right through him as if he were air. Ike's eyebrows curled upward, indicating his sorrow as he quickly learned that he couldn't actually touch his brother. He moved away from the spirit to look him in the eyes again. Once more, he reached out to Kyle, but their hands became transparent in the failed connection.

"_I feel you, bro."_ As much as he wanted to comfort his little brother, Ike was still heartbroken and began to whimper, believing his brother to be dead. _"Sssh, shh. It's okay, dude. Stan and the others are gonna save me. I know they will…"_ Again, Ike whimpered in sorrow.

"_Listen, you gotta do me a favor. Seal off the door to my bedroom; don't let that sonuvabitch demon get out and attack Mom and Dad. You understand what I'm saying, Ike?"_

"…uh-huh," sniffled the toddler.

"_It's up to you to make sure he doesn't hurt anybody. You can do it, Ike."_

"Are we gonna half ice cweam?"

Kyle's spirit nodded as if he understood the question._ "I'll stay with you. I promise."_

Ike seemed satisfied with his brother's reply.

"…Ike? Sweetie?" came their mother's voice from the hallway. Ike curiously opened his bedroom door a bit, and saw that only his mother was present, not the demon version of Kyle. "Ike, I heard screaming! Are you okay?"

Ike pointed to where Kyle's spirit was, but it seemed as though he was turned invisible. "I see ded bwotha," peeped the toddler ala Haley Joel Osmet.

Not understanding his words, Sheila picked him up and cradled him in her arms. "There, there. You were probably having a bad dream. Let's go get you some pudding." As Sheila carried him off, Ike peered over her shoulder to look back on the spirit he was forced to leave behind.

*

It would take all day for Stan and Kenny to have a breakthrough in their search for a rabbi- or rather rabies, as they pronounced it. Word had gotten out that the junkyard at the edge of the town's west side had some feral dogs on the loose, and it that it was possible for at least one of them to be diseased. But that's not how the boys heard it; all they learned was the address of the area that rabies was thought to be found. Imagine their surprise then, when they approached the old junkyard by sundown. It was completely fenced in, and so the two boys had to climb over the metal gauntlet just to get in.

Stan and Kenny turned the corner of a pile of random clutter to get a better view of an open area, but much to their dismay there was nothing but trash and dirt. "This is where they said we'd find rabies?" Stan glanced over to his equally befuddled partner in crime, neither one of them expecting that someone was lurking just behind them.

"Dude!"

"YAH!" jumped Stan and Kenny in shock, only to see that it was Cartman standing behind them.

"This place is a dump! …Heh-heh-heh. Get it? Dump? Hee-heh… heh…"

Stan's eyebrows turned into the shape of a sharp V in anger. "Let me guess: you're with Fred again?"

"You gahs didn't tell me where you were goin', so I let Fred follow you. What the hell're we doin' out here?"

Stan was in no mood to be anywhere near Cartman, but for a moment he was willing to tolerate him. "We've been asking people where we could find a rabie, and they told us to look here and look for stray dogs."

"W'the hell is a rabie?"

"You know, a Jewish priest? We need one to exercise the demon out of Kyle."

Cartman gave Stan a funny look. "Aw, I shoulda known dis was about yer stupid boyfriend."

"I don't have a boyfriend, fatass, I have a _girl_-friend! You do remember Wendy Testaburger, right?"

"The bitch that dumped you?"

"She took me back, remember?"

"Dat's not what da girls say," grinned Cartman matter-of-factly.

Stan raised an eyebrow. "…What girls?"

"Look Stan, if you'd just paid attention in schoo' like I do-"

"Puh!"

"Shaddup, Kenny! …You'd see the girls in our class makin' up stories about you n' Kyle."

"Nuh-uh," Stan disbelieved.

"Yuh-huh! In one of 'em, you two are like all grown up and split apart, and then reunite after like twenty years and stuff, and you're both uh- married to some chicks, and then you like totally lose your memory, and uh- wind up lost in a cave and dere's a storm, and- and Robert Downey Junior saves you gahs from a giant boa constrictor, and then- and then- you guys totally _do_ it…. It's called Yaoi. …With _Styyyyle_!"

"I don't have time for this," grumbled Stan as he ventured forward into the maze of trash piles. "Come on, Kenny." Kenny followed like a lost puppy. Soon enough, Cartman was following behind Kenny. "Weak."

Stan began to call out as he walked on. "Hello-o-o-o? …Anybody live out here? …Is there a Jewish guy we can talk to anywhere!?"

"Ay!" Cartman added. "Anybody got a free TV out here!?"

"He'woah!? Way-beef!?" called out Kenny.

As the minutes ticked away, Stan was quickly losing hope. He sat down on the bent bumper of an old car to rest. As he bowed his head, he sighed, "Those bastards at the tavern lied to me; there's nobody out here, it's just a bunch of junk."

"In a yard," added a satisfied Cartman. "Can we go home now and eat dinner?"

"I'm not leaving without a rabie, Cartman. Kyle needs one, and he needs him now."

"Hell, why don't you call Jesus? He's a Jew, ain't he?"

"…Yeah. I guess I never really thought of that," admitted Stan in defeat.

"Wat woo' Jeefuf boo?" shrugged Kenny.

"First of all, he'd probably tell you gahs to lay off the gayness 'cause he hates that crap."

"Uuuugh." Stan's head began to hurt; his eyes closed tightly while he pinched his nose. "I am not in the mood for this right now."

Cartman then pointed to the nothingness next to him. "Take it up with Fred, he said it."

"There is no Fred, fatass. You made him up."

Offended, Cartman barked, "Ay. You wouldn't like it if somebody told you that _you_ were made up."

"Nok it off, fataff!"

"Hey, Kenny? Fred says you sound like Miley Cyrus with a lisp."

"…WOT!?"

"And he says you're just waitin' in line to be Stan's bitch. In fact, from where he's standing right now, it looks like you're already bending over."

Kenny stomped his feet in a rage. "VAT DUFF IP! I'M GOMMA PIP YOU AFF, FWED!"

As Kenny charged and swung his fists at the void next to Cartman, the chubby one coached him. "Missed. Missed. Missed again. Kenny, he's right behind you. …Nope, missed again. Damn Kenny, look wit your eyes! He's right dere!"

"Dude!" gasped a stunned Stan as he watched Kenny fist-fight with nobody.

**CRASH!**

All three boys jumped in alarm at the sound of glass shattering. They looked to the far left in shared fear, and saw that a lone dog had crawled out of a trash pile.

"Oh, look! A doggie," smiled Stan naively. "I wonder if he got lost." He then whistled for it. "Here, boy! Come'ere, I'm not gonna hurt ya."

As the grey dog approached slowly, they noticed that its head was low as if it was intimidated and walked with a certain limp in its stride. But when Stan reached out to try and pet it, the dog bared its fangs and began to drool profusely.

Kenny was immediately spooked by this, as he had faced danger far more times than he would like to remember. "Oh, fit."

"Rawr!!" the dog lashed out, snapping its dribbling jaws. The boys all screamed and split up in different directions, making the dog pick one and stick with him. He chose Kenny; the orange boy started running in circles as the rabid dog pursued him, while Stan and Cartman watched from a safe distance.

While Stan looked far more concerned, Cartman observed the chase with a certain monotone in his voice as he said, "See Kenny. See Kenny run. Run, Kenny, run."

Stan looked around to see if he could find something to distract the dog, or at least chase it off. To his amazement, he glimpsed the shadow of another young boy jumping out of sight several feet away. Curious, he ordered, "Cartman, you help Kenny. I gotta go take a look at something."

As Stan bounced off, Cartman made up his own mind. "Screw Kenny, I'm goin' home." He started to exit one way, then realized his house was in the opposite direction and so he pointed the way out for himself.

*

"Kame-hame-hah… Kame-hame-hah…"

_Crash! Bang! "AUGH!" "Run, Kenny!" "Bark-bark-bark!" BOOM!_

"What the crap?"

Safely hidden within a fortress of jumbled garbage which he himself had forged, a boy dressed all in black was meditating in front of two Venetian-style candles. But once a commotion was heard, his concentration was shattered. Curious, he peered outward and saw that his territory was being invaded by three peers and a rabid dog. He stared at them until the one with the blue and red hat caught his eye. Startled, the boy in black decided to try and flee, but Stan would be hard to escape from.

Their chase continued until the lone boy was cornered by mountains of trash. Stan skidded to a halt as his quarry raised his right hand out in a claw-like grip. "Stay back, or I'll be forced to channel my darkest powers on you, mortal!"

He didn't recognize the strange, goth-like boy at first, but Stan's memory kicked in once he heard the word mortal. "…D-Damien?? Is that you?"

Satan's one and only son partially softened his stance. "Who're you, human?"

"It's me, Stan Marsh! From South Park Elementary. Don't you remember?"

"Stan... Oh, yes. You and your friends watched my father fight Jesus in an epic battle for the fate of the wor-"

"Yeah-yeah-yeah. Listen, we don't have much time! My buddy Kyle's been possessed by one of your demon friends, and I've gotta find somebody to get rid of it before it kills him!"

Damien raised an eyebrow. "…Your friend? Possessed? By whom?"

"Uh, I don't know his name… I think Kyle said his name was Memphis-something."

"Mephistopheles?"

"Say wha?"

The goth kid bowed his head and began to pace a little in dismay. "So, my father has sent him to take my place as harbinger of the Apocalypse, has he?"

"Actually, it all started with a Weegie board-"

"I should have known this would happen. Mephistopheles has been gunning for my job for years now. My father must have… forgotten all about me. Just as I feared he would."

"…Dude, I don't get it."

Damien turned to face his would-be friend. "You see Stan, ever since my father has started dating, he's forgotten all about me. He never calls, never writes, never pops up out of the blue like he used to."

"Well, he is the Devil, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is a ripe old bastard. But he's my _father_, for Christ's sake! Even _he_ should be given a smidgen of paternal instincts. But no-o-o-o! God forbid poor little Damien goes missing and starts to live on the outskirts of human civilization where no one gives a rat's ass about him! He hurts me so much, I could just tear him a new asshole."

"What about your mom?"

"My mother was a bitch."

Stan took this as an insult. "What? …Aw dude, I know it's one thing to have Satan for a dad, but come on! That's just harsh."

"No, you don't get it Stan. My mother was a jackal."

"…Oh. …Damn."

"Exactly." Again, Damien glanced toward the floor in disarray. "My whole life, I've been trained for the day when I would open up the gates of Hell. But that is not to come until my father has achieved full power, and with all the boyfriends he's had lately, there's no telling when that day will come. So I'm stuck here, on this mortal plain, searching for ways to entertain myself while-"

"Dude. You're monologging."

"Oh. Sorry… My point is, if Mephistopheles brings about the End of the World before me, then my whole existence will be for nothing."

Stan approached him with newfound hope. "Dude, that's it! You gotta come back with me and kick this Memphis guy's ass!"

"…No, Stan. I can't."

Stan frowned, "Why the hell not?? It's your job, isn't it?"

"Only my father can decide who's most worthy of his services, and it seems he's already made his choice."

"Dude, you're not listening. Your dad didn't send Memphis, I did! It was an accident; I was just playing a game with my friends and…" Stan stopped his story when he noticed that the goth boy wasn't listening; he was too busy hanging his head in despair. "Damien?"

Damien came out of his sorrow and turned back to his would-be friend. "I'm sorry, Stan. Everyone else has forgotten all about me; you will do well to do the same."

"But Kyle… Who's gonna help me save him?"

"Ask your lord and savior; it's only natural, isn't it?"

Stan realized that Damien had a good point. "But… are you sure you don't wanna help?"

The goth kid was starting to look annoyed. "Leave me be, mortal. Go, before I set your ass on fire."

"…That's a little extreme, isn't it?"

Damien raised his claw-like hand again. "Medium rare, here we come!"

"Gah!!" Stan took off in a flash in the direction he came running in, leaving Damien to sit down and mope.

"Screw them all… And screw dad. He doesn't care about me, why should I care about him? …Hmph…"

*

Stan ran all the way back to where he last saw Cartman and Kenny, only to see that they, along with the rabid dog, had already left the scene. …Or had they?

"…Cartman? …Kenny? ………..Fred?"

No answers; they were definitely gone, and he was all alone.

"Crap."

*

Outside of the Broflovski residence, the homeless man from earlier that day was now parading the street with a big white sign pulled over his coat, screaming, "Repent! The end is coming! The minions of the Underworld are on the loose! Repent, citizens!!"

Inside, there were more pressing matters at hand. Dr. Doctor had arrived at the house as promised, ready to check up on his little patient. He was prepared to take him into the hospital, as were Kyle's parents. They were walking up the staircase when they were confronted by a most unusual sight.

"I can assure you, Doctor," Sheila began to say, "he looks the same as before, only now he looks a little worse."

"I'll have to see for myse—what the??" stopped the doctor.

To the surprise of the adults, Kyle's room had been completely barricaded by random furniture with red spray paint writing: "KEEP OUT!" In front of the barricade was its maker, Ike, finishing up his red warning sign.

"Ike! What are you doing!?" gasped his mother.

"Ike," frowned Gerald in shock, "move all that stuff away! We have to get in to see Kyle."

The toddler boldly stood before his masterpiece with arms spread out in defiance. "No! No popsicles!"

"Ike, that's a bad baby. Open that door right this instant," scolded Sheila.

No sooner than she said this that a fierce banging came from the other side of Kyle's door. It was the demon, trying to break it down from the other side with a new set of yellow bear claws.

"What the hell is that?" gasped the confused and startled doctor.

Ike, meanwhile, bravely pushed against his cradle- which was part of the barricade- in an attempt to hold off the demon's rampage. "Icicle pop tarts!"

_**Grrrrrrr!!!**_ Came a frightening sound from within the blocked off room.

*

"_Friendly faces everywhere, humble folks without temptation." _Stan was looking mighty lonely while walking down Main Street with his head bowed and his arms tucked away in his pockets, singing his part of a certain theme song by himself for the first time.

**FOOM!!**

Stan stopped in his tracks and looked upward. "…W'the hell?"

He was still several blocks from Kyle's block, but from where he stood he could see a massive wave of hellfire shooting into the sky like a bolt of lightning. Everyone in the neighborhood saw it, and screamed. Cars screeched to a halt, some even crashed into each other. Then, thunder roared out of the evening blue. **BA-BOOM!**

"Oh my god, what's happening?" one person asked.

"What was that!?" gasped a woman on the street.

"It's here!" hollered the panicked hobo on Kyle's street. "It's the coming of the demon lord! We're all doomed! Run for your lives!!"

More fire blasts and thunder crashes sent many people running for their lives, much like the panic struck during the "global warming incident" just as Stan had feared. He watched as dozens of people ran in all directions, tripping, falling, and even breaking through windows of store departments for necessities. South Park was once again in chaos.

Stan was sure that the demon within Kyle's body was the cause of all of this, which meant that he was keeping his promise to end the world. "Damn, dude," he muttered to himself in dismay. "This is as f*#ed up as it gets right here."

CONTINUED…


	3. The Cure

**RABIES**

A "South Park" story

By Snodin

***

ACT III: The Cure

It's been quite a while since the small town of South Park had any real reason to feel threatened. But on that Saturday night, an unexpected thunderstorm blew in with hurricane-like winds blowing out of control, coupled by the fact that a strange blast of fire was beaming from the Broflovski residence. Those who were smart headed straight for the community center in Town Square, while others took to their basements and poorly-made bomb shelters in their backyards.

In the middle of a stampede of panicked people was little Stan, running in the direction of the Broflovski house while everyone else moved like a tide away from it. "Hey! Let me through! Stop! Stop pushing!" he screamed as he struggled against the tide. "I gotta get to Kyle's house!"

Suddenly, a car screeched to a halt on the street. Stan recognized it instantly; "Dad! Mom!"

"Stanley, get in!!" hollered his terrified mother from the passenger seat. Shelly quickly opened the back door for her little brother, and he instinctively jumped in. His father then stomped on the gas pedal, and the car went roaring down the street.

Stan was met with his sister and grandfather in the backseat. "Guys, where are we going?"

"Anywhere is better than here," replied a half-panicked Randy at the wheel.

"But Dad, what about Kyle? It's his demon that's doing all this!"

"Stanley," replied his confused mother, "I'm sure Kyle and his family are already at the community center. You can meet with them there."

"No, Mom! Kyle's still back at his house, and his demon is going crazy!"

"What th'hell are you talking about?" growled his hot-tempered sister.

"Kyle's been possessed by a demon, and it's trying to blow us all up. But he's gonna kill Kyle first, unless we stop him!"

"That lucky little bastard," moaned Grampa. "I wish a demon would blow me up for a change…"

"Dad," ordered an angered Stan as he leaned over his mom's seat, "stop the car."

"I can't Stanley. We gotta get out of here."

"Dad, I'm serious. Stop the car!"

"Not until we get out of South Park."

"Dad!! Please stop the car right now!!"

"Stanley, I- HOLY SH*T!" screamed Randy, as he realized that he was speeding right towards a swarm of cars. In their panic, a slew of drivers flooded the streets in an effort to flee the havoc of fireballs and lightning bolts. Randy swerved in all directions in a failed attempt to avoid them, and soon enough the car crashed into a pile of swerved cars. "…There, we've stopped. Happy now?"

Stan opened his car door and jumped out, and was once again on the run toward Kyle's house. "Stanley!" screamed his mother, "you get back here right now young man!"

"I can't!" he screamed back while still running. "I gotta save Kyle!!"

*

At this point, Kyle's parents and Dr. Doctor were helping Ike push back the furniture that was blocking the door of Kyle's bedroom. But even with all of their combined might, the beast on the other side was still pounding and scratching his way out. Then at last, his great yellow claw came tearing through the chipped wood of the door.

A single yellow eye and a crooked fanged smile peered through the hole in the door. **"Heeeeere's Mephis!"**

"Yah-yah!" screamed Ike in terror, holding onto his mother for protection now. Even Sheila couldn't recognize who it was that peered into their souls in that brief moment.

As the beast's claws kept punching through the door, Gerald finally grabbed his wife's arm and stated, "Everybody, run! Get out of here!" Sheila took a breath and followed her husband, with the doctor close behind her. As soon as they were in the clear, the beastly version of Kyle tore through the doorway, knocking away all of the furniture in front of it.

Mephis-Kyle was now almost completely demonized; his flesh looked scaly and pale green, his clothes ripped, two ram horns protruding through his green bomber hat. But now a new addition to his figure appeared: a long, reptilian tail with small yellow spikes on its end. It swished back and forth, anxiously waiting to whip someone. But now that his prey had fled the scene, he had no choice but to break through a wall and scale the building until he was on the roof.

In a brief moment, as he overlooked the black sky and burning town, the creature that used to be Kyle felt peaceful. He watched gleefully as people ran in all directions, avoiding fireballs which he himself had conjured up with his dark magic. But then, a giant police helicopter was zooming his way. He snorted at it as though it were a mosquito.

"You there, on the roof!" called out a cop with a loudspeaker in the helicopter. "Come down from there, this instant! Don't force us to use… uh… force."

"**Pitiful,"** muttered the beastly child. **"This is the best you humans have got?"** He pointed to the helicopter's tail, and it was suddenly lit aflame.

As the helicopter started to whirl out of control, the policeman with the loudspeaker screamed, "Mayday! Mayday! Subject on the roof is hostile! All units respond with caution!" The beastly child snickered as the helicopter spun into a horrible crash in the parlor nearby.

Minutes later, a set of police cars arrived at the scene. The cops came out of their cars with heavy artillery, aiming at Kyle in preparation to fire. "You on the roof!" called one of them. "Come down with your hands up! You're under arrest for reckless endangerment and-"

Unamused, Mephis-Kyle puckered his lips and exhaled a hurricane wind, blowing all of the cars away in a similar fashion as the evil trio of Kryptonians in "Superman II."

By the time Stan had arrived at the scene, it was already too late to save the police. He gazed in awe at the beast on the roof, as well as the carnage he had already caused. Shaking in fear, he hid behind the neighbor's house before Mephis-Kyle caught sight of him. "…Oh my god," he murmured. "What'm I gonna do? …What would Brian Boitano do?"

"Stanley," whispered a voice nearby. He turned around and saw that the Broflovski's, as well as Dr. Doctor, were hiding under the torn roof of the neighbor's house, which was in the house's backyard. "Mrs. Broflovski!" he cheered as Stan ran to them. "Thank God you guys are still alive."

"Stanley, what are you doing here?" asked the concerned Sheila.

"It's Kyle- I mean Memphis."

"Who?"

"Listen, Kyle's not sick. He's never been sick! He's possessed by an evil demon named Memphis, and he's trying to end the world!"

"My little wubee? Turned into a demon??"

"Yes. I'm sorry, but it's true… and it's kind of my fault."

Confused and alarmed, Kyle's parents turned to the one other person who might have had an answer for them. Dr. Doctor simply frowned, "There's no prescription for this. I'm sorry."

Stan's patience had worn out. "Guys, seriously. Where can I find Jesus or God, or Chuck Norris? I gotta find somebody with the power to exercise a demon!"

Sheila paused to think. "…Well… I suppose we could call for a rabbi."

Stan raised a confused eyebrow. "…A what?"

Gerald frowned, "We don't have time for that, Sheila! Our synagogue is out in North Park, and it's probably blocked of by traffic."

"Does anybody here know where I can find Jesus??" asked Stan impatiently.

The Jews replied with a blank stare.

"...Nevermind. I'll go find him myself; you guys try to get to the community center."

"We're not leaving you here all by yourself, Stanley," denied Sheila.

"Look, I know how crazy all of this is, but this is something I have to do! Kyle's my best friend, and I feel bad for playing with that damn Weegie board. I gotta make it right." With his last sentence, Stan palmed a fist in determination.

"Aww, lookit that Fred," said Cartman, who mysteriously showed up behind Stan for the third time. "I think he's blushing."

Dumbfounded, Stan turned around to face Cartman with narrowed eyes and a gaped mouth. "…How the hell are you doing that?"

"What, showing up outta nowhere? Call it a gift," shrugged Cartman.

"Are you gonna help me or not, fatass?"

"Help _you_ find Jesus? Sorry, Stan; Jesus don't work for fags."

Enraged, Stan grabbed Cartman by his coat collar. "God dammit, fatass! Why don't you just admit that Kyle's _your_ friend, too!?"

"He's not! I hate that friggin' Jew asshole!"

"Hey!" barked Gerald nearby.

"Oh," peeped Cartman sheepishly. "Sorry, forgot you gahs were still hyah."

Stan still clutched onto the fat boy's coat. "Admit it, Cartman. The only reason why you follow me and Kyle around is because you like us. That's why you made up Fred as an excuse to STILL follow me around, even after I kicked you out of the gang! That's why you're here right now! It's not because you like to torture me, it's because you CARE!"

Cartman pushed Stan away in exasperation. "Alright, alright, alright! Get off me, you little sissy-freak! …Okay, I'll admit that I like you gahs. But you gotta admit that you got a thing for that little kosher bitch."

"Excuse me!?" growled Sheila.

Again, Cartman felt sheepish as he glanced her way. "Damn. You're _still_ hyah?"

Stan gritted his teeth. "I am not in love with Kyle. He's not my boyfriend. He never was. He never will be."

"Fine, Stan. Fred an' I will leave you alone while you go save your demon lover. Come Fred, let's go raid the neighborhood while we still can." With that, Cartman waddled away.

Stan glanced back at the Broflovskis and frowned, "Sorry about that."

"Stanley," said Sheila with a weak smile, "I'm very honored that you care so much for my little Kyle. I understand he's your best friend… but Eric is right. You _do_ love Kyle. Just not in the way he thinks you do. I know, because I've seen you two together, and I notice how you two always agree on the same things, and watch the same shows. It's almost like you're joined at the hip!"

"Yeah," agreed Gerald. "We didn't notice it at first, but you and Kyle are more like brothers than friends. And there's really nothing wrong with that- in fact, it's very special. You should be glad to have a friendship like that; look at Eric. I'm sure he's extremely jealous of you two. And who could blame him? You're willing to fight a monster that could burn you on sight, but you don't care because you're doing it for your best friend. Because you _love_ him."

Stan could swear he heard cheesy piano music during the Broflovski's monologue. But in any case, he asked them, "And… that doesn't make me gay?"

Sheila explained, "No, Stanley; love isn't just something between two sex partners. It's an emotion that can go far beyond our own understanding."

"…So you agree that we're not gay."

"You're definitely not gay," agreed Gerald.

"Good. I just wanted to get that off my chest," sighed Stan. "So you'll let me save him then?"

"Do what you have to, Stanley. We'll be praying for you," nodded Sheila.

Ike then bounded toward Stan with a small fish bowl in hand. He held it up to Stan and babbled, "Peddle fish koopie."

"What's this?" asked Stan as he curiously gazed into the bowl. The longer he stared at it, he could see a faint blue light inside. It was clear who it was, but he no longer looked like Kyle; he was just a small ball of light now. "Oh my god… it's Kyle! His spirit's still here, but… it's fading!"

"…_.stan….?"_

"Hang on, dude! I'll get you to the church. Just hang on!"

"Hurry, Stanley! Run!" ordered Sheila. Without uttering another word, Stan took off toward the church with the fishbowl in his arms, no longer concerned that he may get torched by the demon nearby.

Ike then looked up at his parents with drooped eyebrows. Sheila seemed to understand, and reluctantly gave him a nod. "Go get your brother back." Ike smiled at her and bounded off after Stan.

*

Within the hour, military tanks and helicopters arrived at the Broflovski residence. Still standing contently on the roof of the house was Mephis-Kyle, giggling fiendishly at their feeble weaponry.

"On my word, gentlemen," commanded the army general in the lead tank. "…Fire!!"

Ear-splitting missile fires rang out, each bombarding the demon-child and explosing on impact. The soldiers cheered and jumped for joy when they thought their mission was a success; however, cheers fell silent as the smoke caround Mephis-Kyle cleared. He was not only still alive, but he hadn't a scratch on him.

"Second wave! Fire!!"

This time, the demon-child revealed an invisible barrier around himself, causing the on-coming missiles to ricochet and explode way off course. Some even hit army tanks and helicopters. Not even a rainfall of bullets from anti-aircraft guns could penetrate his force field. Mephis-Kyle quickly grew tired of this game, and yawned before conjuring up a gigantic fireball from his hands. The fireball shaped itself into a burning skull before he launched it at the remaining tanks. They were all consumed by it with a loud, ground-shaking **BOOM!!!**

*

The force of this last attack was enough to shake the community center, where most of the town's residence had gathered in a petrified huddle.

"My god," frowned Mr. Garrison, "it sounds like World War Three out there."

"Are we all gonna die, Mum n' Dad?" asked a fearful Butters. His father knelt down to his level with a certain look of comfort in his eyes. "…Yes, son. We're all pretty screwed."

"To think," lamented Uncle Jimbo with his best buddy Ned nearby, "we all wasted our lives in this Podunk little town and never really amounted to anything. I never got to kill any endangered species like I wanted to."

"MMM-I never got to replace my voice box-MMM."

"I never told James how much I really loved him," cried a young lady nearby.

"I never read the _'Twilight'_ book series," frowned a young schoolgirl.

"You're really not missing much. Trust me," said another classmate by her side.

Where she stood with her family, Sharon Marsh said, "Maybe we're all giving up too easily; maybe there's still hope. I mean, we've faced a ton of crisis before and got out okay, didn't we?"

"Hmm," replied Randy, "that's a good point, Sharon. We did survive eight years of George W. Bush."

"Still," said the Mayor from where she stood surrounded by her bodyguards, "we should all use this time to reflect on our lives- no matter how much longer they may last. If Mrs. Marsh is right, and we do make it out of this Apocalypse, then maybe we can clean up this town and the whole world will get together to clean up the earth."

"……Nah, I'm pretty sure we're f#ked," replied Mt. Garrison.

"Oh, honey!" mourned Mrs. Tweak as she embraced her coffee-obsessed husband, "I love you so much!"

"I love you too dear," he said as he hugged her back tearfully.

Other people started to gush out their true feelings toward each other in an act of despair: "I'm sorry I called you a dirty slut, Liane." "That's okay, I am a dirty slut." "I'm sorry I killed that poor kid in the orange parka a while back." "I'm sorry I ever broke up with Suzanne." "I'm sorry I've played hookie in high school." "I'm sorry I buried my Dad in France." "I'm Cartman's real Mom!!"

Suddenly, the room fell silent in response to the last urgent confession. Even Mr. Garrison glanced around in curiosity. "Who the hell was that?" Unfortunately for him, and for all of those who ever wondered, that answer would never surface.

*

Stan flew open the front doors of the Church, still delicately holding the fishbowl with Kyle's dying spirit trapped inside. Right behind him bounced little Ike. They were both surprised to see that there was indeed one other person there- the very person they were hoping to find. He was sitting at the altar drinking the last of his own blessed wine from its chalice, looking pretty miserable.

"Jesus! Jesus, thank God you're here!" cheered Stan as he ran down the aisle to the altar.

"Oh, hey Stanley. Glad you arrived; wanna help me finish up this wine?"

"Sorry, I can't. My mom won't let me."

"That's too bad; you might as well enjoy something while the world is about to end."

"What!?" gasped Stan. "But Jesus… you're The Messiah! You've gotta help us stop this thing!"

Jesus frowned, "I can't. The Apocalypse is meant to happen sooner or later- it's all part of my Father's plan. You see, every couple million years, the earth goes to pot and so Father has to wipe the slate clean and let it start all over again from scratch."

"But… but he… You can't just…" Stan's heart felt like a ton of bricks sliding down his chest as he tried to force words out. "…Don't you even care about us anymore?"

"You know I love you all," replied Jesus with a renewed glow in his eyes. "But this is beyond my power, Stan. The only one who can truly decide how the world ends is… him." He then pointed toward the front piu. To Stan and Ike's amazement, the person sitting there with a gloomy look on his face was Damien, son of Satan!

"Damien??"

"What?" muttered the unconcerned youth dressed all in black.

Stan approached him with his V-shaped angry eyes. "Dude, what the hell are you doing just standing around here?"

"Forget it, Stan. Your 'savior' has already tried talking me into stopping Mephistopheles till he was blue in the face. And I still say no."

"…Why you stupid, selfish son of a bitch."

"Stanley!" barked a disapproving Jesus.

"No dude, seriously, his mom IS a bitch! …Damien, listen. I know you're all pissed off at your dad for ignoring you, but that doesn't mean we all have to suffer for it! If you stop Memphis, your dad will probably praise you for a job well done."

"Or, he could disown me completely for canceling out his plans."

"But Memphis is NOT the bringer of the end, YOU are! Tell him, Jesus!"

"He's right, Damien." Jesus' eyes flashed ala _"The Highlander"_ as he stated, "There can be only one."

Damien sat there in his mope while taking in all of these lectures. He then fidgeted in his seat, looking slightly more puzzled by their concerns. "…Is that your friend in the jar there, Stan?"

"Yes," answered the young human as he looked down on the small flicker of light in the fishbowl. "This is Kyle… What's left of him, anyway."

"_Stan…" _came Kyle's very faint whisper._ "…Take care of Ike for me… Tell Mom and Dad I love them… and tell Cartman… that he's a fat f*$ing f#k-tard."_

"Dude, don't talk like that. You're gonna be okay."

"_Dude… don't ever change. You were always the smart one- I always looked up to you… You were like… a brother to me."_

"Dude, Kyle, seriously… shut up." Stan's eyes started to water. "…Dude? …Dude??" He shook the bowl in an effort to make Kyle's voice speak up again.

"_What's happening to me… is not your fault… Don't blame yourself, Stan… Please… take care of… my… family… dude…"_

"Kyle… Please don't leave us, dude… please don't…" Stan fell to his knees, emotionally broken down. He couldn't stop the tears from falling from his eyes, or the sobs that chocked his throat. Ike was also distraught, as he leaned in and cuddled with Stan to share in his grief.

Jesus then descended from the altar and stood by the mourning children, presenting them to Damien. "You see, Damien? There's more to family than just blood ties."

The gothic boy let out a small sigh. "…Yes. I see it now. You're right. …But my father-"

"Let _me_ deal with your father. Now you go and do what Fate has bestowed upon you, and kick that wretched faker's ass!"

Damien then turned to his would-be friend, who was still sobbing slightly. "…Stan. Truly it was fate that had brought you to my hiding place in the junkyard. You were right when you said that it's not yet time to end the world."

"You… You're gonna go save Kyle?" sniffled Stan.

"…Yes."

"Well, it's about friggin' time!" yelled Cartman, who walked into the scene uninvited. He pointed to Damien and ordered, "You get yer Goth ass out dere and beat the sh*t outta that Jew fer me! Go on, git outta hyah!"

As Cartman chased Damien off, Stan looked up to Jesus with a weak smile. "He does that sometimes."

*

"Alright, if this doesn't work nothing will. Bring out the last line of defense," commanded a new army general, as the previous one had been blown to smithereens already. A massive two truck branding "WIDE LOAD" on its side rolled in a gigantic atomic bomb at the front of the Broflovski residence, the roof of which Mephis-Kyle still stood atop, giggling maniacally at his hapless attackers.

"Wait! STOP!" screamed Stan, as he led Cartman, Ike and Damien into the scene in a hurry. "You can't kill him that way!"

"What the!?" gasped the general. "Get the hell out of here, you kids! This is a matter of homeland security!"

Stan cocked an eyebrow in response. "Since when does blowing up half of Colorado count as 'security'?"

"Mind your own business," warned the peeved general.

Damien then stepped forward. "Foolish mortals! I alone can put an end to this charade. You hear that, Mephistopheles??"

Upon hearing his true name, the demon-child twitched. **"…Eeh?"**

"It is I, Damien, son of the unholy Prince of Darkness! I command thee to descend from upon thine tower and face me in final combat!"

"Speak English dude," uttered a confused Cartman.

Damien then rephrased, "Get your f*&king ass down here so I can smack it back down to Hell!"

The demon-child hissed, sputtering green saliva in the process. He jumped off the roof and landed in front of Damien with a great "THUD," shocking everyone nearby. **"Well, it's about damn time you showed yourself, you little weasel. I was beginning to think you were a coward."**

"You've… been wanting to fight me all this time?" blinked Damien.

"**Of course I did! Everyone in Hell knows how special you are to his unholiness. Now I get to show him what a prissy little mama's boy you really are." **With that, the beast cracked his knuckles.

Damien's eyes beamed with fury and his hands clutched into tiny fists. "…Then let us end it."

As the humans all backed away to give the demons room, a black cloud began to swirl in the sky right over them, hurling lightning bolts at random. Mephis-Kyle flexed his neck muscles before undergoing one final mutation, into a taller, goat-legged and bat-winged being with dark green scales and even longer ram horns. Kyle's spirit responded to this transformation by shrinking ever smaller within its glass bowl, much to Stan's worry. He could now _see_ the actual essence of Kyle seeping out and into the demon's body as a life support.

But Damien had his own inner beast form, and didn't hesitate to show it by mimicking his rival's muscle twists. His eyes turned bright yellow and without irises; his flesh turned light blue and scaly, and he grew several inches taller thanks to his own pair of goat legs. He also grew a set of black bull horns, black fallen angel wings, a forked tail and wolverine-like claws, not to mention wicked-sharp fangs. His aura beamed around him in a purple tint.

Referring to what he said in the end of Act II, Stan gulped, "I was wrong... THIS is as f&#ked up as it gets right here!

Together, the demons took to the sky and began to launch at each other like missiles, scratching and clawing with each wing-beat. Stan, Cartman and Ike cheered for Damien with every punch he threw, although Mephis-Kyle was as fast and agile as he was. At one point, Mephis-Kyle bit into Damien's tail and whirled him into a house down the street. Damien recovered, but not quickly enough to dodge a fire blast from Mephis-Kyle's fists.

"Dude, this is just like in the movies!" cheered Stan.

"Yeah," smiled Cartman. "I wish I had mah video camera."

Dazed after taking the full blow of the fire beam, Damien was picked up by his horns by his rival and thrown into the nearby tavern. Mephis-Kyle zoomed in through the window to catch up with him, when Damien suddenly yelled, "Time out!" He then grabbed a soda bottle from under the bar and quickly chugged it down while the green demon patiently waited. "Time in," said Damien calmly, and threw the glass bottle in Mephis-Kyle's distorted face. **"AUGH!"**

Damien then shoved both himself and Mephis-Kyle out of the building, and they rolled onto the street until the blue demon was on top of the green one, pinning him down by the waist. Damien then showered his foe with punches to the face while his human friends ran to his side. "Dude, be careful!" yelled a concerned Stan. "That's Kyle's face!"

"Oh! Sorry," frowned a sympathetic Damien, loosening his hold on Mephis-Kyle. The green demon then kneed him in the groin, to which Stan gulped, "Oops."

Once again, the green demon with the yellow iris-less eyes had the upper-hand. He grabbed Damien by the hair and jumped into the air again, where thunder same swarming in all directions. He dragged the smaller blue demon until he was struck not once, not twice, but three times by lightning. Slightly dazed again, Damien was released and nearly plummeted to the earth head first. Luckily, he regained consciousness in time to spread his wings and soften his fall. As his foe came swooping down on him, Damien threw up a fist and punched him square in the nose.

"Kick his ass, devil-boy!" rooted Cartman.

Mephis-Kyle quickly recovered from the punch, but now he and Damien were poised to summon their dark magic on each other. Mephis-Kyle once again turned his punches into fireball-launchers, while Damien countered them with bright light from his own hands. Then Damien was on the offensive with a great laser beam from his fiery eyes, but Mephis-Kyle dodged it by jumping out of the way. The laser smacked itself right through two blocks and eventually into South Park Elementary. As if they had seen this for themselves, Stan and Cartman high-fived. "YES!"

Seemingly out of fire power, Mephis-Kyle let out a frustrated roar, and charged at Damien like a mad bull. Damien bent forward to take the full blow, but was hit hard and knocked on his back. And this time, he wasn't getting up right away. "Oh no," frowned Stan.

Mephis-Kyle grabbed Damien by the throat this time and took him high into the air again. There, he began to slowly squeeze the life out of the little blue demon, grinning viciously as he did so. From the ground, Stan felt helpless; he knew that if he didn't do something quick, Damien could die. He tried to think of what to do, when Ike bounced in front of him to get a better view of the fight.

Stan then glanced down at Ike, then back up at the demons, then back down at Ike, then the demons, then Ike, the demons. Ike. Demons. Ike. "That's it!!" cheered Stan, as a light bulb went off in his head. He quickly bent down to Ike's level, the way Kyle used to. "…Ready, Ike? Kick the baby!"

Ike seemed stunned and confused at first, but it didn't take him long to figure out Stan's plan. For once, he was jumping for joy: "Yah! Kick da baby!!"

As Stan aimed up at the back Mephis-Kyle's head, he muttered, "This one's for you, Kyle." Ike tucked in his arms and legs until he appeared to be a football with a face. Stan took a small running start before kicking Ike in the back and sent him flying in the air, squealing happily.

**THWACK!** Ike made impact right where he needed to, in the back of an unsuspecting Mephis-Kyle. **"Augh!! What the hell!?"** In his confusion, the green demon loosened his grip on Damien, which would soon become his downfall. Meanwhile, Stan caught Ike just in time and smiled at him proudly. "Again!" cheered the toddler.

Before he even knew it, Mephis-Kyle was now in Damien's death-grip, choking for air. _**"We finish this now,"**_ hummed Damien in an inhuman voice. The blue demon then pile-drove his foe into the ground with such force that they created a small crater in the earth. Mephis-Kyle was now down for the count, out cold.

With a wave of his hand, Damien then used his dark magic to open a portal to the Underworld from which he stood, while still holding onto Mephis-Kyle's throat. _**"May this be the last time you ever decide to mess with me. Begone, unworthy adversary."**_

In a flash of red light, the two demon-children seemed to have disappeared before the eyes of their witnesses. Stan and the others had to close their eyes to shield them from the blinding light, but then all was dark again. As Stan and his friends reopened their eyes, they saw that the sky was now clear and full of stars. Buildings were still burning, the street was still ravaged, but there seemed to be a sudden sense of calmness in the air. "…It's over," sighed Stan.

"Damn it," frowned a disappointed army general nearby. "I really wanted to blow something up today. Ah well. Move it out, boys!" The Wide-Load truck reluctantly moved off with the bomb as the army slowly began to leave the scene.

Ignorant of the army's departure, Stan and the others ran to the crater in the street where they last saw Kyle. And still there he was, only now he was a fleshy human with nothing more than tears in his clothing and bruises on his face. And he was still out cold; it was unsure if he was even still alive.

"Kyle? …Dude, are you okay?" Stan immediately jumped to Kyle's side and cradled him in his arms. "Dude… Dude, is that you in there? Wake up." "Stan," uttered Ike, who bounced over to his side while holding the fish bowl that was carrying Kyle's soul. Stan's mouth gaped in sorrow, seeing that the fish bowl was now completely empty. "Oh no… No… Don't tell me we were too late!! …Kyle!? …Kyle!! Wake up, dude! Come on… please…?"

At that point, even Cartman couldn't help but frown and even shed at least one tear. But he would keep his distance, perhaps to not let Stan know of his grief.

While Stan began to break down and cry, Ike kept a dry eye and crawled over his brother's chest to hug him tightly. Echoing what Kyle's spirit said before, Ike closed his eyes and softly said, "I feel you, bo…"

"…ugh… ike? …stan? …f-fatass?"

"…Kyle??" sniffled Stan, hearing his friend's true voice for the first time in days.

Kyle's eyes, now back to their black-and-white colors, fluttered open but not completely. "what… happened? …my head, ow…."

"Dude, you made it. You're alive!" cheered Stan before he and Ike gave him a long, warm hug.

"…Where am I?" moaned a weak and confused Kyle. "Dude," replied Stan in mid-hug, "you were possessed by a demon, and he nearly killed you. But Damien saved you! He sent that demon bastard back to Hell. Isn't that awesome?"

"Damien… Oh… Where is he? I need to thank him."

"He's gone," replied Jesus, who walked into the scene unannounced. "He and his father are having a long, well-needed talk. But I think it's safe to say that we're all safe now."

"Thank God," sighed Stan.

"You're welcome," smiled his lord and savior humbly.

"_Dude," muttered Stahn to Kyle softly, "I really thought I lost you there. I dunno what I'd do without you." The little Jewish boy looked back at him with tender loving eyes. "I feel the same way, dude. If something ever happened to you, I… I'd probably kill myself." "Don't worry," repled Stahn, "I'm never gonna leeve you. You're my bestest friend in the whole world, and… and.. I love you." "Really?" asked the Jew. "…I love you too, dude." As they gazed into each other's eyes, their faces drew closer… and closer… until their lips-_

"CARTMAN!!" screamed the two furious boys at their narrator.

*

Snapping back to reality, Cartman was sitting at his laptop computer, typing up the last paragraph of his recollection of the demon incident, while Stan and Kyle stood by with disapproving looks on their faces. "What?" he blinked. "What'd I do wrong?"

"That is NOT how it ended, you sick bastard," growled Stan.

"Yeah," added Kyle with a threatening fist. "Who's gonna believe that two nine-year-old kids made out like that?"

"Look, it's_ mah_ story and I'll write it however the hell I want! Screw you gahs!"

"Ugh," moaned Kyle as he approached the computer screen. "Look, the least you could do is paragraph; nobody's gonna read a bunch of jumbled-up blocks like this. And look! You misspelled a bunch of words, and you even misspelled Stan's name! How you ever got past the first grade, I'll never know!"

"You're not the boss of me, Jew-boy! Why don't you go write your own story if you don't like mine?"

"Fine," grinned a plotting Kyle. "Maybe I will. Maybe I'll write a make-out story with you and Kenny, and call it Carnie! Get it? Car-nny?"

"Hahahaha! Good one, dude!" laughed Stan. The two of them then started to hop out of the room chanting, "Cartman's a Carnie! Cartman's a Carnie!"

"AAAY!" howled Cartman as they hopped off.

As they reached the door, Kyle suddenly stopped and turned to Stan with a look of concern. "Dude! I just realized something… Whatever happened to Kenny after the junkyard scene?"

Stan paused to think deeply over Kenny's mysterious fate. "Hmm… You know? …I don't really know…"

*

Somewhere deep within the abandoned junkyard on the edge of town, two stray dogs were tugging apart a chew bone, when suddenly a creature jumped out of the dark and sent them running. The bone was then picked up and gnawed on by a rabid Kenny, with his clothes slightly tattered and fizzy drool peering over the lower part of his hood. Upon sensing more threats to his food, he barked and clawed like a crazed animal.

END


End file.
